A Change in Me
by SuperWhoLockHiddles
Summary: Loki enjoyed Thor's time on Earth. Now he's stuck to experience different lives in Midgard. He's taught humility and that everything has its place, including him. Tony is furious, Natasha is overbearing, Clint is frightened, Bruce stays clear, Thor is oblivious, and Steve is...leaving him alone? But Steve is also the only one who can understand him...literally. PRE-SLASH
1. In the Beginning

_So, this is an interesting story because it's slash...but it's not? I don't know, but I think you'll like it. Okay? Okay! _

* * *

"_**AHHH**_!" An earth-shattering screech pierced the night as the god of mischief awoke with a start. He sat up in his bed clutching at his chest with his hand, trying to keep his heart from bursting. His chest rose and fell rapidly and unevenly, his eyes wide, fretful, dark, and dilated as adrenaline flowed like fire through his veins.

He calmed down enough to glance at the clock on his bedside table: 2:54 AM. _Not again_, Loki mentally cursed himself. He tore off his shirt and threw it to the ground, laying back down in a huff. He'd been waking with night terrors for the past three weeks. He kept telling himself that gods didn't get night terrors; that they shouldn't even need sleep at all.

Those thoughts didn't stop his heart from ripping at the seams when he was awake, all by himself, knowing full well that all the occupants of Stark Tower could hear him, if not all of New York City. Loki had thought that eventually someone would talk to him—say _anything_—but it appeared as if they had tried to avoid that subject. One would think that they were as sick of Loki waking them up as he was, but apparently that opinion is wrong.

Keeping his thoughts trained on absolutely nothing, he lulled himself back into sleep. However, that sleep didn't go uninterrupted or as restful as he had hoped. But he would take restlessness over the day that ensued, any time he was given the option because, let's face it, the god of mischief doesn't do sadness.

But, perhaps, you're coming in at the wrong time; this story _really_ started with the losing of immortality. So, let me take you back to when it all started, three months ago.

* * *

"_Me?_" Loki screamed at Odin. The two of them were secluded—by Odin's order—in a room so that the two may have words. "You're trying to tell _me _what the balance between chaos, mischief, evil, and sadness is?" This was ridiculous; this was horrible! Loki felt a bout of emotion the size of a softball knot in the center of his chest. He wanted to scream, he wanted to throw a temper-tantrum, he wanted to slaughter an entire race, and above all; he wanted to cry. Slowly, he felt traitorous tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

_Damn! _Loki thought. He had promised himself that he would never cry. Not in front of Odin, nor in front of Thor, and especially not in close proximity of a reflective object, should he happen to glimpse himself.

However, it seems that he was breaking that promise, seeing as a single tear threatens to spill over, and leave a revealing wet streak down his cheek. It seemed, nevertheless, that crying was the least of his problems, for he was face-to-face with a situation that he'd never dreamt of.

"Yes," Odin replied, calmly. "You do not understand the repercussions of your actions, nor the threat you pose to the worlds." Catching a glimpse of the look on his 'sons' face made Odin decide to clarify his meaning, "Yes, Loki; _worlds_. As in, more than one!"

His breathing was so ragged that, had Odin not known better, he would have thought Loki was having a heart attack. His face was as pale as a ghost—sickly, unlike his normal creamy complexion—and his eyes were red.

"So," Loki's voice broke in honest, heart-wrenching, pain. "Do you care to share what your plan is for me? Hm? To lock me in a cell, _and throw the key down to Alfheim?_" Loki's voice rose in uncharacteristic hysterics.

Loki knew—oh yes, he knew—that he was a threat to Asgard, and probably even Alfheim. Honestly, if Odin considered himself All-Knowing, All-Powerful, and the 'All-Father' of the entire universe, didn't it seem that, if need be, he could contain one simple Frost Giant?

Sure, it'd seem that way.

But, then again, Loki was no _simple _'Frost Giant'. No; he was a god. _The_ god of mischief, the god of evil, the greatest liesmith of them all! He possessed magic that Odin had secretly envied Loki his entire live, and Loki always took his magic for granted…

Or did he?

"No," Odin replied, softly. "I'm not going to kill you, or try and contain you. That would never work. This may sound old-fashioned, and childish but Loki, you are _grounded_." Odin raised his hand, and snapped his fingers once. Immediately, Loki felt all of the air leave his lungs. The god collapsed to the floor; hand around his own throat, in desperation, to recover from this lapse of oxygen.

"W-what're," Loki tried to choke out. "Doing. To." And those were the last two words that Loki, The God of Mischief, spoke. He felt as if his skin was on fire, and he looked down at his arms in awe. His armour melted away to reveal smooth, milky white, forearms and biceps.

In overwhelming panic he looked down to examine the rest of himself; he was wearing a plain white t-shirt, black tight-fitting jeans, and a pair of green shoes with a star and the words 'Chuck Taylor' printed on the side. Seeing that he was no longer covered by his shell of protection, Loki reached up to touch his helmet, but his fingers only met silky smooth black hair.

His first reaction was: _panic! _But then he remembered that he was a god! _Relax_. He could blink, and instantly disappear. So that is exactly what he did…or attempted to do.

"Father!" Loki yelled in horror. '_Okay, _now_ I'm allowed to panic_', he thought to himself. "What is the meaning of this?" He started to stand up, but instantly felt lightheaded. He fell to his knees, and looked up at his father, incredulous.

"This is exactly what I promised, Loki." Odin replied, sternly. "You're grounded." And as Loki watched Odin sweep his hand across the expanse of the room, darkness over took him and he fell unconscious.


	2. Glad You Came

LOL I'm not actually sure how well this story is working out...but the comments are encouraging! :D

* * *

When Loki woke up, he was laying in a crater the size of a three foot deep baseball diamond. He didn't know how long he'd been unconscious, but he guessed it was at least an hour, seeing as his arms were aching from being bent at strange angles.

He felt hyper-aware of everything going on around him, yet he made no attempts to sit up; he knew he'd just pass out again. He glanced around, taking in what his limited field of vision provided him with. Trees, er, okay _dead _trees, and people. No dead people, so that was always a good thing, right? The people who _were_ around were standing far away—near the edges of the depression in the ground.

'_Well_,' Loki thought, '_at least Thor isn't anywhere around to fuck this up for me._'

See, it was quite interesting when you looked at it from a certain perspective; Loki was the one who originally presumed that spending a generous amount of time in Midgard would do Thor good. Never did he see himself needing such reform!

When it was time to go home, Thor had escorted Loki back to Asgard, and returned to Earth to pursue the Avengers Initiative. Loki, on the other hand, had promised to _never _return to Earth under any circumstances, _**ever**_.

So, here he was, stranded in Central Park, confused as hell.

Oh, _how_ did he know he was in Central Park? There were a few things that gave it away; the people that were everywhere, the ruined sign that Loki recognized from the last time he broke America, and another clue was that he was surrounded by twenty armed and hostile police officers.

Police? No problem. Loki would gladly go into custody with them until father let him leave this god-forsaken planet. However, he was incredibly relieved that Thor wasn't anywhere to be seen, for Loki didn't think that he couldn't handle his overwhelming brother at the moment.

"Loki," he tensed for a second, recognizing the sound of the voice. Feeling well enough to stay awake, he sat up cautiously, and looked around intuitively. Walking through the group of officers was none other than Captain America himself—girly uniform and all—and for some strange reason, Loki was excited to see him.

"Captain," Loki mused quietly, still glancing around.

"What brings you to Earth this time around?" Steve asked, extending an arm to help Loki up. This was all very surprising, actually. The second that Loki saw Steve, he assumed that he was going to have his ass kicked…again. But seeing as that he was being treated like an actual _person _he wasn't going to question it. Hesitantly, Loki grabbed his hand and was pulled to his feet. Immediately he let go of Steve's hand and wiped it on his shirt.

"I'm not sure," Loki replied, looking into the sky. It thundered and the sky darkened a bit. "I'm not sure," he repeated, tentatively. "It might have something to do with Thor." It thundered again, this time it was loud. Loki narrowed his eyes at the clouds, threateningly, "Okay, it has _nothing to do with Thor_."

"Come with me," Captain said nodding towards a giant black limo that Loki would only guess was Anthony Stark's. As Steve walked ahead, Loki shuffled slowly after him; he was still taking in all the people, the damage, and the guns… Oh, shit! _Guns_. Loki stopped dead in his tracks, only a few feet away from the first police officer. He eyed the gun carefully, vigilantly.

It wasn't until a few seconds later did the Captain notice that Loki was still standing back where he'd been found. He turned around, confused, and looked back at a very awkward and disoriented Norse god.

"Guys," Captain said, sternly but politely.

"Captain," one of the guards said, before putting his gun away and turning to face Steve. "We were given strict orders to keep the hostile force under close watch, guns present at all times." It was also a stern reply, but it was polite and slightly hesitant. Like he didn't want to upset the _great _Captain America!

"I don't know if you've noticed or not," Steve said, his voice getting low and dangerous, "But Loki is the least hostile thing in this area. He looks like he just woke up from a bad dream, or just came down from a high on drugs. I highly doubt that guns are required for his transport to Stark Tower." At these words, Loki made a small strangled noise. Both Steve and the officer looked at him questioningly.

"If I threaten to kill someone," Loki said slowly, as if his tongue was made of lead, "will you promise to take me to a mental hospital or perhaps execute me?" This time it was Steve's turn to make a surprised sound.

"What?" He choked out.

"I'd just prefer if I _didn't_ have to see my brother," Loki explained, with a small fake smile. "Nothing more than a simple…er, not-so-simple, family argument." Suddenly a bolt of lightning flew through the sky and set fire to a tree that was nearby.

"I would suggest listening to your father, Loki," Steve urged gently, like talking to a baby kitten that was caught in the rain. He turned sharply to the guard, and glared at him, "And I suggest _you_ listen to _me_."


	3. Come With Your Hands Raised High

So, this one is up kinda soon...but that's only because I had most of it written when I uploaded the first chapter, haha. The comments I'm getting are absolutely wonderful ^_^ thank you very much! I just hope I continue to make good chapters for you guys!

* * *

Back at Stark Tower…well. Chaos ensued.

It seemed that every Avenger felt differently about the new member of the household…if you could call him that. Tony was absolutely _furious _about having Loki in his house, considering that Loki destroyed it the last time he was on earth. Now, naturally it would be perfectly fine to assume that Loki was going to attempt to kill someone or destroy the tower _again_, right? Fine, but after seeing that Loki was not only harmless but apparently mortal, Tony should have calmed down.

_Should have. _

Natasha was either off somewhere sharpening her knives and cleaning her guns, or clearing an entire floor of weaponry/breakable items so that Loki could stay safe…and so could she. Clint was very impressed with how she was handling the situation, because normally he would be left to clean up after she shot Loki between the eyes without batting an eyelash; it was then that Clint decided he really liked Rational Tasha more than Black Widow.

On behalf of Loki's wishes, Thor was not informed of his arrival. It was probably a good idea considering that a family feud between a god and a mortal could be bloody, loud, overbearing, obnoxious, and possibly all of the above. So the Norse god walked around the building, as usual, attempting to use the microwave, playing COD, and laughing very loudly just as he did every other day of the year.

Doctor Bruce Banner was…away.

Loki was hiding.

He was hiding from _everyone_; hiding from Natasha who was doing everything in her power to get him to talk to them. Hiding from Clint who was inadvertently telling Tasha where he was concealed. He was avoiding Thor for _obvious _reasons—possibly the hug he would get that might crush him, maybe the look of extreme pleasure on his face from Loki being mortal. The list went on and on, really.

Especially hiding from Bruce who might kill him on sight, and from Tony who was constantly updating security, checking on his whereabouts, and pestering JARVIS about the best way to commit a murder and make it look like an accident.

And there was one last person that he was evading. This person didn't get on his nerves, didn't make him angry, or sad, or was angry at _him_. This person was Steve Rogers, and he was amazing. Amazing not in the sense of love or lust, but amazing in the sense of compassion and understanding; Steve actually left Loki _alone_. Loki was secretly in awe of how Steve tried to make him…happy.

The second they got to Stark Tower he smiled at Loki, gave him a reassuring pat on the back, and walked away. So perhaps Loki wasn't hiding from Steve; no, that wasn't it at all. It would seem that _Steve_ was hiding from _him_.

"Hello." Loki's voice drifted softly into Steve's conscious mind, making him shudder slightly at the sudden sound. After returning to the tower, Steve had changed into a pair or sweatpants and a t-shirt, grabbed a book, and headed to one of their many living rooms. He didn't usually attempt to understand what the other Avengers were doing most of the time, which left this room, quite literally, usually empty except for himself.

Loki was standing by the door, eyes wide and confused—how he'd found his way to Steve's floor of the tower was a complete mystery—picking nervously at his own fingernails. This behaviour, coming from Loki, was quite scary; it was so out of character.

It may not have been obvious to Tony, or Clint, or Natasha, but to Steve it was like a giant red arrow for an 'Everything-Must-Go' sale. The second Loki was found on earth, he was different from the last time they'd met. He wasn't hostile, or defensive, or anything in between.

He had seemed distant; like a really big part of him was drifting away, just within reach but never quite in his grasp. Or…was it possible that Loki had _always _been this way? Missing some greater purpose; some burden he wished to carry, but was always told was too heavy? Missing a part of him because he was never shown how to find it?

Who was supposed to tell him how to find it? Not Thor and definitely not Odin. So here Loki was, a small child afraid of thunder with a look of horror in his eyes.

"Hello," Steve replied with a smile. Loki just looked around the room, as if searching for a fault in its construction. Steve's heart fluttered slightly at the thought of how lost he looked, but naturally he would feel that way right? He's Captain America; he helps those in need, and Loki looked like he could use some of that right about now.

"Do you…" no that wasn't the right way to start this conversation. "Have you, er, are you—" He shook his head, obviously at a loss for words.

"Mortal?" Loki offered, looking everywhere but at Steve.

"Yes." Steve bit his bottom lip, hoping that he wasn't trespassing into unwelcomed territory. Luckily, it seemed that his counterpart was quite willing to talk about this subject.

"I can feel it, yes," Loki drawled, as he strolled into the room. He picked an arm chair that was several feet away from Steve, and sat down, crossing his legs gracefully, and folding his hands in his lap. Steve noted, in awe, that even as a mortal Loki still gave the impression that he owns everyone, and everything, without even trying.

"I can feel it," Loki repeated apprehensively, "but I feel something else too. Perhaps not _all _my magic has gone." It was difficult for Loki to try and explain, but he figured that if Steve was willing to listen, than he was willing to talk.

"What do you think," Steve paused for a second, unconsciously opening and closing the book he was still holding his in his hands. "Why are you—I mean, do you know why… Did he say what—" He looked down at the object in his hands, and fingered the pages gently.

"The reason," Loki said softly, "that I am here remains unknown." _Which is, of course, a lie. I'm…sorry. _Shocked, Steve looked up at him, not believing that he'd actually hear an apology come from _Loki_.

"Did you just say that?" He asked.

Loki rose an eyebrow, clearly unamused with the conversation, "Say _what_?" He spat, defensively.

"Oh," Steve blurted out, his cheeks turning furiously red, and he looked away. "I just thought…never mind." _I just thought you apologized…which is very strange._

"What?" Loki hissed at him, to which Steve responded to by jumping in his seat, looking up with wide and terrified eyes. Loki sat forward in his seat, gripping the arms of the chair tensely, "Do you think me _incapable_ of articulating_ an_ _apology_?"

"N-no!" Steve stuttered, throwing his hands up in defense, "I only thought…" it was then that the room became completely silent, as the two slumped back in their seats, exhausted, just staring at each other in disbelief.

_That's not even possible_, Steve thought. _This just isn't right_.

_Why?_ Loki thought bitterly, scowling. _Because you don't want to be stuck in my head?_

_What, you're going to sit there and tell me that you think this is completely normal?_

_No…_ Loki contemplated what Steve had said…er, thought. _I suppose not. But I don't like you in my head, so _get out NOW_!_

"I'm not controlling it Loki," Steve murmured, offering a small sad smile. Loki's expression remained passive; submissive, blank, thoughtless. He stood up, abruptly, causing Steve to cower back into his seat, and swiftly walked away. When he reached the door, he stopped, but didn't turn around.

"I don't care if you're not controlling it," he said, his voice bleak, "if I catch you in my head again…I'm going to kill you." And with that, he left.


	4. House of Wolves

So...I'm really sorry that this took me seven years to upload, but I'm kinda trying to do seventy things ATM. (Write two fanfictions, summer assignments for AP Art, starting YouTube video's, FILMING YouTube videos, EDITING YouTube videos, updating once a week at least on my other social networking sites, reading two books...you know, no big deal.) So I hope this was worth the wait! (ALL OF YOUR COMMENTS ARE FLAWLESS!)

* * *

"_Bruce?_" Tony Stark's voice carried, almost, throughout the entirety of Stark Tower. Apparently things weren't as normal—well, as normal as a hulk, a god, and a super-solider can get—as they had seemed when everyone went to bed last night.

Natasha and Clint were indifferent to the Loki situation, and were extremely suggestive of their night-time plans when announcing they would be retiring to their floor. Suspicions were confirmed when Bruce heard "strange" sounds coming from their room half an hour later.

Stark and Dr. Banner decided to stay up all night, working in their lab, only taking an hour's rest so they wouldn't die of sleep deprivation the following day. Thor had chosen to watch hours upon hours of a "fascinating Midgardian television show that closely resembles those of the finest warriors of Asgard." It was a while later that Tony took the elevator to Thor's floor of the tower, and told him it wasn't healthy to watch seven straight hours of Doctor Who. This conversation prompted Thor to turn off the T.V., eat three gallons of mint chocolate chip ice cream, and finally go to bed.

The Captain had felt incredibly uneasy when he had gone to bed which was completely normal, considering how his life had been threatened by a man who was stealthy, intelligent, and very fond of verbal torture. (Not to mention, Loki was only a floor below him.) Oh, yes, Steve hadn't forgotten the whole 'hey, look I can read your mind' incident. In fact, he couldn't stop thinking about it; what could it possibly mean? Why was _he _the one to understand Loki and not Thor? Thoughts kept chasing one another up and down and around Steve's head and eventually he thought himself into a peaceful sleep.

Speaking of Loki; he had been locked onto his floor by JARVIS and wasn't allowed to leave until the morning when he would be told to eat some food. Natasha was very against this prospect, seeing as she hated treating Loki as a prisoner, but Tony overruled her seeing as he controlled the security of the house. He saw Loki as cunning, evil, manipulative, and an overall ass-wipe…Natasha then told him that he was just describing himself, but saying he was talking about someone else.

Either way, it came as a huge surprise when Tony walked into Loki's room the next morning, and his eyes met an extremely strange sight.

"_BRUCE!_" He called again, refusing to remove his eyes from what he was fixated on, in fear that it would suddenly warp back to normality. It was just twenty short seconds later that the elevator dinged, Bruce strolled out onto Loki's floor, and made his way down the hall to the bedroom. He was holding an iPad in his hands, trying to configure an equation theory on retrospective human genome development, cloning, and stem cell research.

He was too bothered to even look up from what he was doing when he walked into the room. This was because it became a formality that Tony would call him away from work as often as possible. Most of the time it was to kill a spider—'Hey, that thing was trying to eat me!'—or to make him and Thor a batch of pancakes—'I could have it delivered, or have JARVIS do it…but it tastes better when you get frustrated, and the Hulk throws it all over the kitchen'.

So what was it this time?

"What?" Bruce asked, sounding incredibly bored, and tapping the screen a few times, before swiping it once and pulling up a graph.

"No," Tony said, giving him a sidelong glance. "I don't think you understand… If you're so into research of DNA and genetics, can you _please _explain to me this one simple question: What the fuck is that?" It was at that moment that Bruce's attention was pulled from the object in his hands to what Tony was freaking out about.

"Oh my God," Bruce murmured, taking off his glasses. It would have been impossible to believe unless it was seen with one's own eyes; it was a baby.

There was a little, tiny, innocent sleeping baby with black hair, lying in the middle of the king-sized bed, apparently unfazed by Tony's obscene yelling. He was too afraid to approach it, so Bruce was forced to pull on the rarely-used 'big-boy' pants, and examine just what the hell was happening here.

"Did you see this?" His brows furrowed as he reached forwards and grabbed a folded piece of paper that was lying next to the infant. There was neat gold script on the front that was addressed '_Dear warriors of Midgard_'.

"Uh, no," Tony called from behind him. "Read it to me," he suggested. Bruce went to open it, but Tony quickly objected; _This has to be a new record_, Bruce thought, rolling his eyes, _Tony changing his mind this fast._ "No! Wait…we should get the others down here first."

That's actually a good idea." Bruce nodded in agreement, "What should we tell Thor?" He asked, suddenly coming across the realization that the Norse god—and his intriguing ways of interrogation—may not be useful in this situation… well, that and the fact that Loki had specifically told them _not _to tell Thor anything about his time on Earth.

Tony sighed and rubbed his face with one hand, putting the other one on his hip. "Well, he went to bed about," he glanced at the clock—10 AM-before continuing, "maybe five hours ago. I think he'll be sleeping. And even if he isn't, he'll probably be busy watching Doctor What's-His-Face, or something like that."

"Doctor _Who_, Tony. If you're going to insult it at least sound half-way intelligent."

This time it was Tony's turn to sound bored, "Okay, yeah. Doctor Who, Doctor Whatever. JARVIS," Tony barked, taking out one of his many cell phones, and scrolling through the contacts. When he finally reached the name he was looking for, he typed a quick message—'Be over in 10. Expecting pancakes. No butter. All OJ.'

"Yes, sir?" The humanoid voice replied happily.

"Can you call down a few of the Assvengers, er, whatever we call ourselves?" Behind him, Tony heard Bruce snort, and turned around to find a threatening glare burning holes into his skull. _What do we call ourselves? The Assvengers? The Airbenders? The Earth Defenders? The Ice Cream Vendors? Bar Tenders? Meh, it all sounds the same to me._

Tony shrugged; he hit send on the phone, and shoved it back into his pocket. He then pulled an organizer off of his belt and selected the option '_Add Appointment_.'

"Certainly, sir. Which ones?" JARVIS answered.

"Sex in Leather Pants. Freedom in Tights. Aaaaand…" he was trying to think of one more demeaning name, and when he failed to come up with something insulting, he said the first thing he thought of, "the Boy Wonder. Oh, and please leave out the god of Ben-and-Jerry's please." Tony looked back down at his organizer and punched in a quick date and time, and titled the event before saving it.

"Yes, sir. I shall inform Ms. Romanoff, Captain Rogers, and Mr. Barton immediately." After Jarvis had finished, Tony spun on his heel and walked out the door.

"Hey!" Bruce called, running after him, "Where the hell do you think you're going?" He stopped in the doorway, watching as Tony pressed the elevator button. There was a faint 'ding', the door opened, and he stepped inside.

"I'm going to see a man about a dog." He said plainly.

"…Really?" Bruce questioned, raising one eyebrow.

"No, I've just always wanted to say that." He smiled dryly, "I'm getting us a babysitter." Then he pressed the button that would take him to the garage, and waggled his fingers at a gawking Bruce just before the door closed.

"What a dick." He muttered.

* * *

"'Dear warriors of Midgard," Bruce started, "by this point you may or may not be aware of the situation at hand; Loki was sent to Earth to learn a lesson. He has lost his magic and immortality, but I'm afraid I could not remove his intelligence nor his other…interesting personality traits.'"

"Obviously…" Tony interrupted. Bruce glared at him, "Sorry."

"'He is not a threat to society unless he is given the opportunity. Whom you see before you is but one of the many Midgard creatures Loki will take the form of. I have placed this burden on him in hopes that he may understand that everybody and everything has its place, including him.'"

"About time." Tony interrupted…again. When Bruce gave him a look of murderous rage, he said, "Sorry, that was the last time," and mimed zipping his lips shut.

"'Each creature has a different age and name; he may also possibly change genders or species. There is one among you who will know him, but I cannot say who. However, here's what I can tell you at the moment. Call him Lake; he is of the age of 1. He cannot perform tasks out of the ability range of infants, but I have not robbed him of his thinking capability. So in simplest Midgard terms: He can still understand everything you say just as Loki would, but he cannot reply as Loki would.

Good luck. Signed, 'The All-Father'.'"

"You're done right?" Tony asked hesitantly. Bruce just rolled his eyes.

"Okay, so what do we do about this?" Natasha asked. They had gathered in the main living area at Stark Tower and were all sitting on the semi-circular couch that Thor had demanded they buy. In the middle of them all, Steve was sitting, awkwardly, next to a still-sleeping baby Loki. (Steve was the only one nice enough to take up the task of carrying Loki from the third floor to the tenth, laying him down on the soft carpet, and keeping an eye on him.)

"Shouldn't we wake him up?" Clint asked, already moving to poke Loki awake.

"NO!" Almost all of them shouted, before immediately covering their mouths and staring at Loki, eyes wide in terror.

"Why not?" Clint whispered not moving his hand that still hung in mid-air.

"Well, maybe it's because we have no fucking idea how he'll react." Tony said sarcastically.

"Tony, shut up." Steve said not looking at any of his fellow Avengers. If he had looked up he would see the look of incredulous shock plastered on all of their faces. And then, being the smart-ass he was, Tony scoffed, "Right, right. Okay Rogers, riddle me this; that letter mentions that someone will know him. Do you have any ideas what that would be about?"

Steve's head snapped up, eyes meeting Tony's in panic, face turning the color of a tomato. It was common knowledge that Tony eavesdropped on every single thing that happened within the confines of his home, so naturally that morning, before discovering a _fucking baby_, he had checked the footage of the whole mind-reading incident.

"Steve," Natasha asked slowly, "What does he mean?" When Steve didn't answer, but stared at his folded hands in his lap, Tasha reached over, grabbed his chin and forced Steve to look at her. "What the fuck does he mean, Steve?"

"It's nothing," Steve said shrugging.

"Nothing?" Tony exclaimed, "Oh, it sure looked like a whole lot of 'nothing' to me!" Then he stood up and paced back and forth in front of them, cautious of the sleeping child on the floor. "Last night, Loki paid Roger's here a little visit." He didn't even pause when he saw Bruce open his mouth to speak, "It seemed completely normal, surprisingly, seeing as Loki wasn't being a dick and Steve was being…Steve. But then something really strange happened."

And _that's _when Tony stopped talking and walking, hoping that it would prompt Steve to finish what he had started. _What a dick_, Steve thought rolling his eyes.

"Tony if you don't tell us what happened right now I swear—"

"God, Tasha calm your tits!" Tony said raising one hand, completely unafraid of the fact that she could kill him within five seconds. "It was so weird that I had to go back to watch it four more times, but sure enough they'd both stopped talking. And when they started to talk again, it's like they were finishing a conversation that had never started. It wasn't until Loki threatened to kill Cap that it was obvious they it was some freaky Norse mind-reading thing goin' on."

"Ha, ha!" The sound of Steve's laughter cut through the tension like a dull knife. The rest of the Avengers turned to him, mouths opened in shock as they watched Steve covered his mouth to try and stifle his giggles.

"Steve? What the fuck? You think this is funny?" Clint asked.

"No, uh," he gestured beside him, "Loki, er, Lake is awake."


	5. If I Fall

So I'm really sorry about this chapter. It's kinda just a filler so that you get the gist of how their relationship develops. (Prepare for some cheese at the end ^_^)

* * *

For a long time the only thing that everyone could do was stare at him. It seemed like such a weird concept, you know? This was Loki—the _God _of Mischief—the guy who tried to take over the world just a few months ago. Nonetheless, here he was, mortal and helpless. So what were the Avengers supposed to do? Nobody really wanted to take care of him, but they didn't exactly have a choice did they? Odin sent him to earth for a reason, and if they were supposed to help out with that, then they were going to help out with that.

"He's surprisingly cute," Tony said sounding extremely bored. It didn't matter that he tried to cover up what he'd said with sarcasm. The fact of the matter is; _Tony_ complimented _Loki_. Everyone then turned their attention to Tony who looked at them and shrugged, "What?"

"Did you just—" Bruce started to ask, but was quickly cut off by Steve.

"Lake, don't say that." Now the attention shifted to Steve who was looking down at Loki (Lake) and rolling his eyes. Lake just stared back; but Tony wasn't wrong because Lake…Loki…whoever the hell this was, was looking pretty adorable. His hair was still long and black, and his eyes were _huge_ compared to the rest of his features. He was sucking his thumb, which everyone secretly thought was endearing, and looking at all of them passively. It wasn't weird that Loki was a baby—no that was the most normal part—it was weird that he made the calmest baby in the history of forever.

"What?" Clint demanded, "What'd he say?" Steve looked at him uneasily, unsure if it was really appropriate to voice Lake's opinions without his permission. Steve cleared his throat, "Well, let's just say that he's feeling like the good-old Loki that we've always known him to be." So that was a perfect sound analysis of exactly what he'd said. But judging by the look on Steve's face, and the sudden blush he'd acquired, Loki had been thinking some pretty devious things.

"I don't think I can be around this much longer," Tasha sighed, leaning back onto the couch.

"Much of what?" Bruce asked, "There hasn't been 'much' happening for you to be tired of already." Everyone looked at him and made a disappointed 'ooo' sound. It might have been because he'd questioned Natasha, it was most likely because he had worded his sentence so poorly that everyone didn't really understand what he'd said.

"I say we hand Loki, uhm, _Lake_ off to Thor and have him deal with it," Tony suggested standing up and going over to the bar. He poured himself a generous amount of whiskey and downed most of it in one go before pouring more into the glass and putting the bottle away.

"That's a good idea," Clint said sarcastically.

"I say we let Pepper take care of him," Bruce said, knowing that Tony had been at her house earlier in the day. It was a good suggestion because he would be safe; the Avengers could go back to saving the universe and whatnot. It was a good suggestion and almost everyone agreed. _Almost_.

"I don't think that's smart," Natasha said hesitantly, "Odin sent Loki here for us to take care of him. Maybe it's not a good idea to be letting someone other than _us_ watch out for him." She made a good point. But nobody wanted to admit it. Then a long conversation ensued in which everyone aside from Steve was thinking of people who should take care of him. [Because, let's face it, everyone knew who would end up taking care of Loki when they were finally out of ideas.] Lots of ideas were thrown out—JARVIS, Pepper (again) Natasha, Thor (Tony was really pushing that one)—but somebody always saw a loophole in every proposal.

"I have an idea," Bruce said, clearly trying to stay calm, "let's let _him _decide." Bruce pointed at Lake who had been watching the entire debate with a terrified look.

"I like that idea." Tony slurred; he'd drank seven glasses of whiskey and one glass of scotch because he said the talking gave him a headache. "Steve, tell us what he says." Tony waved his hand in a sloppy but grand manner before falling onto the couch.

"Well," Steve started, "he says Tony is out, because of obvious reasons."

"Yeah," everyone murmured in agreement.

"Clint is out because he has no idea what he's doing. Bruce is out because…well, he might bring out 'the other guy'." Clint looked shocked, and Bruce just shrugged; it was a common fact that Bruce just didn't do situations in which there was any possible stress involved. Unless it involved Tony.

"He says Natasha or Pepper both sound like decent candidates, but that there would be complications in having either of them take care of him." Natasha looked almost as shocked as Clint did, and a little bit mad, but everyone knew she was secretly flattered. There was something about a helpless Loki that made her…nice.

"He disagrees that a computer would be capable of handling a baby, especially one such as himself." At this Tony snorted in retort; if he was able to form sentences at the moment he'd probably argue that JARVIS was more than qualified to take care of a little brat like him.

"He's self-absorbed, even as a baby," Clint said, putting his head in his hands. _When Odin finally stops being a dick and I'm a god once again, you're going to pay for that. _Steve wanted to say, 'Just stop it will you?' but then realized that it had been Lake's thoughts he'd heard, not his actual voice.

"So that just leaves you, Steve" Bruce said barely hiding the amusement in his voice. _Yes, I was wondering when you would volunteer, Steven_. Steve looked down at Lake who had a shockingly smug look on his face.

"I wasn't going to volunteer, Loki," Steve sighed shaking his head lightly.

_So what was your plan?_

"Steve, you know you're talking out loud, right?" Tony asked, slightly more sober than he was previous moments ago. The rest of the conversation occupants were either staring at Steve like he was mental, or staring at Lake and wondering how he was able to be himself…yet also a baby.

"I have to, Tony." Steve said stiffly. "I'm not allowed to respond to Loki mentally, as you're well aware of. I do recall him threatening to kill me." Steve's voice got quieter as he said the last part, because he couldn't keep up an angry charade for more than a few seconds, even with Tony Stark.

_I'm sure I can make an exception, under these, er, slightly more complicated circumstances_. Loki thought as Lake lay quietly on the ground and stare, wide eyed, at each one of the Avengers with an anxious look on his face. Steve could tell that it was killing Loki to go back on his word, but was impressed to see that Loki understood the predicament he was in. There was no way that he would be able to survive as a baby without someone reading his thoughts, because he was too proud to voice his opinions with unintelligible baby-talk.

_So this is okay? _Steve thought hesitantly, glancing at Bruce and then at Clint. Bruce looked calculating—not in a rude way, but more curious is all—almost like he wanted to ask questions but thought better of it. Clint had a look on his face the screamed "I have no idea what's going on, but I'm going to nod and agree with everything Tasha says."

_I'm not fond of the situation, but I am indebted to you for performing such an inconvenient problematic task. _Okay, now Steve just felt bad. He didn't want Loki to think he was being a burden, but at the same time…he kinda was, wasn't he? There were no _serious _problems invading New York City at the current moment, but anything could arise in a matter of seconds. Tony would argue that a baby was a liability, and a risk he was willing to take, as long as there was no blood on his hands. Bruce might say that it wasn't his problem and, therefore, would offer little service as possible. Everyone knew where Tasha stood on this topic, and thus understood where Clint stood as well.

"Well?" Tasha pushed, wanting an answer so she could leave for combat training with the Taijitsu master from Tibet, who was in town for the week and promised to meet up with her on that day. "I guess I'm babysitting." Steve said giving a none-too-enthusiastic smile to her. She clapped her hands together, stood up, kissed the top of Clint's head and walked towards the elevator.

"I'm going to meet up with a very good friend of mine," she announced as the elevator arrived. She stepped in and was about to press the button when Bruce spoke up, "Hold the elevator. I'm going down to work." It wasn't too hard to grasp the concept of Bruce working non-stop, or the concept of him not wanting to be around a baby. Things could get messy.

"While you're going, you might as well check on Big-Guns upstairs." Tony pointed towards the ceiling from where he was lying, face-down, on the couch. If someone didn't know, they might have thought Tony was talking about God. Oh how wrong they would have been. Bruce replied with an 'I could care less' sound, and hopped inside.

"I'm going back to bed," Clint said, obviously not knowing what to do without Natasha to help him. He stood up, ran towards the elevator to stop the doors from closing, slipping in just before they shut. That left Tony, Steve, and Lake (Loki?). Actually that brought up a very good point in Steve's mind; what were they supposed to call him? Loki or Lake? So the best way to get an answer was to simply ask him.

_Hey, should…should we call you Loki or, you know, Lake? _It was quiet for so long, that it seemed as if his thought had been ignored, like it had never been received, but it startled Steve when he finally heard a reply.

_It's quite strange, actually. I feel like, like I know my name is Loki. But I don't want it to be. It's like a horrible pet-name that I just can't get used to, but I don't mind it. _Steve wasn't exactly sure that he understood, but it made enough sense for him to decide to just call him Lake, since that's what Odin told them to call him.

"Hey, Tony," Steve called to his drunken friend.

"Heywhatyeahwhat?" He mumbled.

"Do you mind if I have JARVIS take you to your room? I'm not too sure your alcoholism is good for a baby. Plus you look tired." Tony snorted in protest, but didn't argue. He rolled off the couch, and sort of dragged himself to the elevator where he rolled in, and the doors closed.

And then there were two.

_So, _Lake…_what do you want to do? _Really, it's not like either of them really knew what was supposed to happen, but if Lake gave a suggestion, then Steve would be willing to try anything once. Again, there was another long silence where Steve sat looking down at Lake as he looked around the room, curiously. [This was probably the first time that he'd acted like an actual baby since he had become one.]

_To start things off, I'd like to inform you that I don't appreciate being this small, and so I'd appreciate it greatly if you could place me on the couch. _It was funny how much these thoughts sounded like Loki was actually saying them to him. There was even a great reluctance when he said 'appreciate'.

_Uh, sure…n-no problem. _Steve thought. He awkwardly bent down, picked Lake up and put him on the couch so that he was a good foot away, but still within arm's reach. Lake then shifted a bit, and wormed his way between two pillows so that he felt hidden, but in sight. Steve turned on the television, and started to watch the news. Apparently that wasn't going over too well.

_Steven, really? _Lake chastised in a disappointed tone. _This television show is way too monotonous to stimulate the brain of an infant. _Okay, so TV was out. Steve turned off the television and placed the remote on the sofa's end-table.

_Are you…hungry? _Now that seemed to spark his interest. It was something both Steve _and_ Lake could enjoy doing. Steve sat Lake in a chair by the kitchen table, and ransacked the refrigerator for anything that would prove to be worthy baby food. Conveniently, they had a _ton _of applesauce so Lake decided he wanted that. Steve, on the other hand, decided he would go with something more suited for lunch, considering it was noon; pizza.

Steve had his plate in one hand, and a cup of applesauce in the other as he went to sit down. He gave Lake his food and started to eat his own when he heard—yes actually heard—a small (adorable) noise of displeasure.

_What? _He asked, concerned.

_I hate this. I hate being a dumb, incompetent, mortal child._ It was a very hateful thought, so naturally Steve was able to pinpoint the problem immediately.

_You want pizza, don't you?_

It was yet another long silence where Lake started with innocent eyes at Steve, and frowned a bit. _…Yes_, was the final answer.

_Sorry, Lake, you have to eat applesauce. But here's the deal, when you stop being a baby I'll buy you as much pizza as you can eat okay? _It seemed to please Lake's need for Midgard food, and seemed to shut him up for a few seconds as they both tried to eat. TRIED TO.

_Uhm, Steven? _Came a small, meek, thought. Steve looked up, and frowned when he saw that Lake hadn't even touched his applesauce.

_Something wrong? _He asked.

_In my current state I'm afraid that I am incapable of consuming this sustenance in a civilized manner. _Geez, did he know how to phrase a sentence or what? He could have easily said 'I don't know how to eat this' but he decided to keep what part of his old life that he could.

_Do you want me to…feed…you? _It felt incredibly awkward to say, and even more awkward to reply to. He didn't want to be like 'YES FEED ME' because that just felt off. But at the same time, was there anything wrong with trying to avoid getting food _everywhere? _And that would be worse! Because then Steve would have to give Lake a bath, and that would be horrible for everyone but Tony who would laugh at it later.

_Yes, I suppose that is what I'm trying to suggest_. Damn. Too bad, really, because they'd both been hoping that this particular part of Lake's condition wouldn't be a problem. Oh were they wrong. Steve had just gotten up and grabbed the smallest spoon possible when JARVIS announced to them that someone else had just arrived at Stark Tower, and that she was headed up to meet them.

"Hello, Pepper!" Steve greeted cheerfully with a wide smile.

_You don't have to be so enthusiastic…_ Lake thought moodily. Steve's smile faltered slightly, but nothing more than that seemed to deter his disposition. He wasn't going to ask why; he didn't have the time for that now. But later he would be having a nice talk with Lake about his, er, general habits and daily routine.

"Hello Steve," Pepper said with a sweet smile. She threw her bag onto the table and asked Steve where Tony was. After receiving the answer she was searching for she simply rolled her eyes and asked what was going on, considering how there wasn't usually a baby within a thousand feet of Anthony Stark at all times.

_Don't tell her. _Steve heard quietly in his mind. He looked down at Lake who had a strangely sad and alarmed look; almost as if he was going to cry. But then something brilliant happened. Steve got an idea that would please all three of the occupants of the kitchen, and nobody would feel awkward about it.

"Well," Steve started slowly, "Bruce's cousin's nephew needed to be babysat while he was out of town for a while, so we volunteered." Okay, it wasn't a waterproof plan, and it wasn't very believable, but it wasn't questioned, which was a huge relief. Pepper even seemed more than willing to help out. She offered to feed him while Steve sat and talked with her and tried as hard as possible to ignore everything emitted from Lake's mind.

_This is dumb. _

_I'm full._

_Tell her to stop looking at me like that; I hate being treated like a child._

_Why is she so incessant on being obnoxious?_

_When is she leaving?_

_I'm tired. _

An hour later when Steve heard that certain thought, he actually tuned into Lake's emotions and honored his attitude. He told Pepper to go upstairs and greet Thor, and then go downstairs and visit Tony and Bruce, and that he would see her later. Immediately after she got into the elevator he told JARVIS to inform Tony and Bruce that Lake was now related to Bruce, and was only here for a little bit. He also added that Tony should SHUT UP and not say anything.

"So you're tired?" Steve asked running a hand through his hair and smiling warily at Lake. There was no answer, and he wouldn't get one this time. For some strange reason Lake was mad, and Steve couldn't fix it, but he would try. Steve decided that he wasn't going to treat Lake like he was Loki, because they weren't the same person. Steve was going to treat Lake like a normal mortal kid even if it meant hearing endless comments about how uncomfortable he was. Honestly it didn't matter anymore.

"Well, then I think someone should take a nap." It was a genuine smile that crossed Steve's face, because he realized that if Lake got to sleep then he would too, and he was okay with that! Lake looked angry, and as if he were about to complain about Steve treating him like a child, but when Steve picked him up, every trace of anger vanished. He was left feeling…happy.

As soon as he was in Steve's arms he wrapped his tiny arms around Steve's neck, and laid his head on his shoulder as he curled up in the crook of his arm. It was a nice feeling, though neither of them would admit it; on the way down to Steve's room (because that's where they'd take a nap so Tony wouldn't disturb them) Lake even started to sift his fingers between strands of hair at the back of Steve's neck.

They entered the living room—on Steve's floor—and picked the biggest chair to lie in; Steve on his back, and Lake on his stomach still tucked into Steve's arms. Just before drifting off to sleep, Steve felt two tiny arms tighten their grip, gently, on his neck as Lake coiled into a smaller ball trying to get as close as possible. And Steve would swear on his life that he'd faintly heard '_Thank you'_ somewhere in his mind.

And THAT is how Captain America and the god of Mischief fell. What they fell into? Oh, only time will tell. Maybe sleep, maybe a friendship, maybe trust, and possibly even something bigger.


	6. GENERAL UPDATE

So, pretty much this is just a general update on this story; I really do plan on sticking this out and trying as hard as possible to finish it, but at the current moment my muse has fled Stark Tower in New York, and went to go live with My Chemical Romance in New Jersey. I'm not going to say that this story is on 'hiatus' because it's really not, but I just want to let people know that they shouldn't freak out if I don't update for a LONG time.

I'm slowly trying to coax her to come back, but she really loves this band, guys. (I think she's obsessed 0_0)

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR BEING PATIENT, BECAUSE I DON'T WANT PEOPLE TO HATE ME, PLEASE? Okei. Bai.


	7. GENERAL UPDATE 2

Hey, guys! I want to give an update here so that you know what's going on; I _am _writing a new chapter for the story, but I'm not sure when it'll be posted. I'm trying to balance two MCR fics and this one so bear with me! I'm so happy none of you hate me, yet, hopefully, and I'm suuuuuuper happy that my muse is willing to have shared custody with every other month in NY and Jersey! :D

* * *

A Change in Me-(NAME TBD)

... Lake liked Big Bang Theory because it had logic and concepts he understood, and Dance Moms because it was a horribly accurate portrayal of how he saw all humans—games, going to Central Park, and sleeping.

As for everyone else? Well that wasn't too difficult to determine; Tony would spend copious amounts of time following Dr. Banner around like a lost puppy trying to be taken for a walk. Dr. Banner, however, would do three things; one, make Tony upset; two, make Tony food; three, make charts and graphs that correlate with his current research project. Natasha and Clint were doing God-knows-what—everyone had their suspicious, but strangely enough, every idea had absolutely _nothing _to do with sex at all, whatsoever. Again; strange, right?


	8. FUQ DIS SHIT

Okay so this is some BAD news.

My computer has ALWAYS had a really bad habit of just completely crashing and losing ALL of my memory. To fix this problem, my dad got me a back-up hard drive so I didn't have to lose anything! YAY! ^_^

**_However,_** (and this is the shitty part) the last time I backed up my documents I only THOUGHT I was backing it up, but not really which means I've lost a SHIT TON of stuff, and the really bad news is that I didn't post it on any of my accounts so it's gone forever.

Like...

Fuck this shit.

But now this is a legitimate reason as to why chapters are going to come really slowly.

I'M SO SORRY!


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